Entry #60: Two Plus One

Okay, two out of three test results have come back. As per my earlier post, I had to redo my NK blood draw for a THIRD time Friday morning because of the hospital’s lab staff screwing things up, so – oy vey!

ANA (Anti Nuclear) test came out just fine – totally normal.

Thyroid re-check came out a bit high – so we’ll up the dosage of my Synthroid.

Doc reminded me again that I’m the only person in his 30 years to request the NK test. Yeah well I’m kind of awesome that way, I said 🙂

Doc again said he recommended we transfer two since it’s our last try. We have 8 weeks to decide. While we don’t want twins, no way, no how, there is an interesting thought component that comes up when you know that it’s the last time and that the whole “it only takes one” cliche is so not true. Sometimes it takes 5 to get 1. And there’s always selective reduction if there were two, which I personally don’t see as any different than not using the leftover embryos in the lab (it’s just expensive). But there’s a lot to think about if we were to take this route.

Back to the Couch

So in response to the crazy week I’ve had, I got my arse back to our counselor to talk about infertility and the future as it may or may not turn out. It was fucking hard being back on the sofa, and with a caffeine buzz I gave her the lowdown of the traffic jam going on in my head. All these things literally culminating into a giant WTF that I need to figure out.

The infertility thing, of course. We have at least ten sensible explanations and strategies in our collective head – all that make perfect sense when individually discussed. I can intellectualize and organize with the best of them, but as we know, there is such a huge element that is completely out of my control. OK, most elements.

And the other part of course is with the impending death of my stepfather. Talking it out to my counselor, it’s not about grieving that loss. Seriously. ln fact, that’s got about the sadness impact of finding out a great-uncle you haven’t seen since you were a kid. What it is – isn’t it always – is the thinking about my mother, and her loss, and who she will be after the initial dust settles. Will she sell the house she lives in, which she actually bought with my father back in 1972, with the maple tree in the front yard that was once a stick in the ground that now overshadows the property? Will she move overseas like she once claimed she would after his passing? Will she do anything differently as a widow, act differently, soften a bit, maybe get back to her feminist roots from when she was a delegate in the 70s? Yeah I know, it’s all fantasy. But this is the weird shit running through my head, and I told my counselor, how could I not go to the funeral? Even though I actually don’t want to go, there’s that sense of obligation to her, that weird loyalty we sometimes have, even to people who have given you no reason to, that sense of propriety that comes up when someone dies. Because you don’t want to be thought poorly of…even though one of the last things she said to me was how he never liked me anyhow.

My counselor repeated it back to me what I’d told her (don’t you love how a good therapist can do that?) – so you would only be going to the funeral so she wouldn’t think less of you? So she’d like you?

(acknowledging sigh emits from me)

Feeling Agoraphobic

I finally admitted to my husband that I’ve fallen into the abyss of (hopefully temporary) mild case of agoraphobia in the aftershocks of this fifth treatment. I’m no longer capable of reaching out, and have more cases of climbing under a blanket and holding my knees and rocking than I care to admit. But I am emerging.

Walking into a grocery store, a movie theater, even just making my way down a somewhat busy street? It makes me nauseous some days. I’ve taken to wearing my headphones at Safeway, with my iPod on so that I don’t have to hear anything and perhaps it might shield me from seeing all the beautiful children that everyone else seems to have. Yet at other times I’m captivated by the kiddos…after all I’ve got two great first graders I love reading to every week. The first one reminds me a lot of me in that he doesn’t fit into the conventional world of school, he’s really smart, just needs a different approach. He’s emerging…and I hope the System that is traditional public school doesn’t squash that.

With all this, I’ve been listening to No Doubt’s Settle Down…a lot. Trying to remember I’m not the only one out there struggling with the extreme clusterfuck that is infertility.

Get get get in line, and settle down Get in line, and settle down

No big deal (I can handle it) It’ll bounce off me (I can handle it) Been around the block before, doesn’t matter anymore Here we go again (Are you kidding me?) Are you insane? (Are you kidding me?) We’re underneath the avalanche so heavy again

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One thought on “Entry #60: Two Plus One”

peaceableme

April 24, 2016 at 11:18 am

I always notice others people’s children when I’m grocery shopping as well. It’s hard not to put yourself in the mothers place. Imagine what it must be like to have an adorable young child. It’s so cute when they have those little grocery carts to push around. ❤